Aural Hematoma in Pets

Harper and Drew got into a fight over a rawhide chew on the 7th of February. I was unable to get to them with a spray bottle to break it up, so it lasted longer than an ordinary fight. Toward the end I heard yelping. Not a good sign. As usual after a fight I checked the both of them over really well.

While Drew was fine, Harper had a number of minor lacerations to the outside of his ear or pinna.  He shook his head before I could clean him up and stop the bleeding.  I later found blood on my bathroom mirror and the top of my toilet from a 23 lb dog shaking his head.  But the shaking did more than dirty up the bathroom.

I checked Harper's ears the next day and found a squishy but painless swelling the size and shape of a lima bean on the underside of Harper's pinna. Hmmm... lima bean.  I planned to let it go, and if it was still there when my dogs went for their annual visit in March, I'd let the vet know. A week later it was still painless but it had the thickness of large baby carrot and extended about 2 1/2 inches down to the tip of his pinna. The weight of it caused his ear to hang low. The next day the vet pronounced the swelling an aural hematoma.

The pinna is composed of cartilage sandwiched between two layers of skin. If a capillary is injured it can leak out stretching and filling the space between skin and cartilage. For most dogs, repeated head shaking causes the injury.The usual cause for this shaking is an ear infection or ear mites. Harper's ears were free from infection and mites. Trauma was the cause of his hematoma. His head shaking must have busted a fight-injured capillary or increased bleeding from one that was already ruptured from the fight.

My vet explained three methods of treatment, two of which she would not do.

Fandango Sucks. Tribute Movies Doesn't.

This is such a beautiful website:

www.TributeMovies.com

All the information I want without all the ads.

It's not fancy Fandango with all the slow loading graphics. It's not The Washington Post weekend movie section which never seems to load correctly.

It's old school internet.  I love it.

CJLL #7

 

A 1750s engraving picturing a devilish figure with tail, horns, and mustache hammering his cock like a blacksmith to make it longer, one would assume.

 The Cully Flaug'd and a torturous looking orgy

Historic sex toys from the 1700s (two dildos) auctioned off for over $5,000 - Ever wondered if people masturbated in the 1700s? Well they did, and they did it with tremendous kink. 

 

 A tower of ladies getting hit with a birching, and another dirty picture from the 1700s with a bonus hairy cock-shaped lantern on the wall.

Seventeenth century Japanese Natsuke Figurines (rope bondage)

Renaissance Royal Revels - 15th century - looks to me like pony play with a bridle and whip; A sketch taken from Last Judgement 1541 - that may show anal fisting; 1600s woodblock - Pan's got a boner

A No Good Rotten Day

Yesterday was a pretty bad day. 

It was so noisy: three helicopters over my house in the morning, honking cars on the way to Georgetown in the afternoon, construction in the parking garage that was deafening and audible in the upper floors of the building, more helicopters over my office, rain on the roof, barking dogs. Sometimes I just hate noise.

I showed up to my psychiatrist's office two days early.  I called the day before to confirm my appointment, but apparently the phones were down so they could not call me to tell me that my appointment was Friday.  Maybe I expect too much, but if I knew someone would be driving all that way to come on the wrong day, I'd use my personal cell phone to make a one minute call to let them know. But as some libertarians say, While I cannot push you into a fire, it is not my responsibility to pull you out. Sometimes I wish I could be so callous.

I ran into my psychiatrist in the hall.  He said that if I got my chart he could fit me in. The lady at the front desk didn't believe me and told me I'd have to wait about 3 hours, and she didn't want to give me my chart. I told her I'd wait as long as I needed to. But Jesus Christ, just do what I fucking ask you to do. Give me my fucking chart.

Anyway, got the chart and sat down to wait, then I started to cry out of pure frustration at myself for having such problems getting appointments right and at the fucking universe for having the nerve to have nonfunctional phones.

My wonderful psychiatrist fit me in almost immediately. After initial hellos, the first thing out of his mouth was "Are you going to the big S & M event in DC this weekend?" I told him that I was not going to Fetfest but I knew some people who were. He said he knew about it because a group he likes, the Kinsey Sicks, will be playing at the event.

My psychiatrist is a man well into his 70s. He just got back into the office after hip replacement surgery. And he loves the Kinsey Sicks.  (Video below) He's a pretty cool dude. And yay for nonjudgmental, sex-positive mental healthcare professionals.



By the time I got back to my office, I was on the verge of cussing everyone out.  My lovely coworkers talked me out of most of the bad mood.  I went to the grocery store after work, had a veggie pizza and cleaned a bit.  The sense of accomplishment in putting some stuff away helped lift my mood.

I watched Nature and Nova on MPT.  The Nova episode, Earth from Space,  blew my mind wide open. My Ms. Drew laid pressed up against me on the couch, emitting her signature silent but deadly farts. Introducing the new fragrance Deadly(TM) by Drew.

By bedtime I felt OK. 

When I have a bad day, I'm reminded of how well I'm taking care of myself, staying on my meds, working hard in therapy, making good choices about who I have in my life, what I do with my time, and how I handle setbacks. Almost every day was like this a few years ago.  Now a rotten day is rare, and I'm very grateful for that.

We Are All On The Warm Side Of The Color Wheel

Unfortunately had to steal the image from Jezebel.

Lose yourself in Humanae by Angelica Dass.

From the palest pink to rose to mauve to tan to copper to chocolate, we are all on the warm side of the color wheel. A similar project based on eye color would be awesome.

Marquis Coffee Shop by Galt Museum & Archives on The Commons

Guess I Heard That Wrong

Fresh out of the oven: A fast shot to heaven
Buckingham: By a lucky hand

Coming Out As Kinky

In this Savage Love Letter of the Day, Dan Savage argues that BDSM is something a person of any sexual orientation can do; it is a sexual activity, not a sexual orientation.  Therefore, it isn't anyone's business. The diversity consultants at my workplace say something similar:  Talking about your sexual activities is inappropriate, but you can discuss who you get sexy with.

I tend to agree with this regarding acquaintances, but just about everyone I'm close to knows I'm kinky. I feel like I'm hiding something if I don't discuss my membership in the community.  If I don't, I seriously feel like I did when I exclusively dated women and someone assumed I was straight.  I have a hard time putting words to why this activity requires disclosure, while my other activities like wildlife rehabilitation and photography do not. I guess it's sexual activity and part of my core all rolled up in one. 

Slap Me Baby. Hard.

Worrying about the future is the root of anxiety, and I shouldn't be doing it.  However, when I find myself thinking about a future relationship, I might worry that I'll fall for some dude who isn't kinky and has no interest in exploring.  That I'll be rejected for it.  In reality, I'd have to reject him, but in my worries I'm always the victim.

As much as it is important to me, as much as I want it to be a part of my life until I go to sleep for the last time, I don't see BDSM as my orientation. (I'll give this more thought.) But there are people who do. In the same column, Dan Savage posted an interesting  and very long letter from a young man who sees BDSM as his orientation. The letter writer describes it this way:

We live in a culture where those of us who are weird enough to have similar experiences have absolutely nowhere to go, which is why I want it in the public consciousness. Which is why I'm "out," why I intend on staying that way, and why I think being "out" is so important for those interested in BDSM. I belong to the local kink group, go to munches, etc., and we get a lot of people in their 50s who have been having sex for years and are just now getting interested in kink. I've been interested in kink since I was three and am only now—at age 24—getting interested in more vanilla-type sex. I prefer feminine-but-androgynous partners, but I'm bi and have played with members of both genders (if you believe in a binary, and many genders if you don't), and I'd much rather whip someone I was unattracted to than have just plain old sex with someone I was. And there are other people like me, regardless of how rare. My playmate between ages four and seven. My current partner. And there have to be others.

I don't care what you call what I am (although I'd be very curious about what you'd call me if not "BDSM-oriented"), but I'd like it to be known that people like me exist. Eventually I'd love to see it inserted in the public dialog, hopefully so the next generation has it a little easier. It's no fun being trapped in your own head, unable to talk to anyone and convinced that what turns you on, something you totally didn't ask for, is destined to eventually turn you into a predator and a monster.

We are all different, coming to BDSM in our own ways. The when and why of disclosure and the question of orientation will be on my mind for a while.

Art From Books

Cara Barer Fine Art Photography

Just had to smile today because I have six wonderful men in my life, friends I've met through work, my vanilla life, and my kinky life. All of them non-judgemental and kind to a fault. I'm doing something right!